


Peace (Talks)

by HawthorneWhisperer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written after 2x15 but before 2x16.  Peace talks in Polis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace (Talks)

Bellamy still couldn’t believe they were here, in the marble council chambers of Polis, attempting to hammer out a three-way peace treaty.

Peace.  It still didn’t seem possible.

He couldn’t forget the day they returned to Camp Jaha, a long slow train of wounded and injured, limping away from the mountain.  Lexa’s messenger was waiting for them, inviting them to peace talks in one month’s time.

That was it.  No apology for leaving them all behind to die, no hint of regret for their betrayal.  Just a month in which they could patch up their wounded and decide what they wanted while Lexa promised to honor the terms of both her treaty with them and their truce with Mount Weather in the meantime.  No punishments or retribution were to be meted out until all sides met in Polis, the messenger informed them, and then climbed back onto his horse and rode away.

She may have been a brilliant commander, but Bellamy couldn’t ever fully forgive Lexa’s treachery.

Lexa sat at the head of the table, her new second–a grizzled, grey haired woman with a square jaw–standing guard behind her.  Clarke was to Lexa’s right, her shoulders square,  and Dante Wallace to her left.  Emerson stood behind Wallace and gripped his rifle tightly while Bellamy glared at him.  He understood the need for peace talks, at least in theory.

But some crimes were unforgivable and for the first time he almost understood why the Grounders demanded Finn as the price of an alliance.  Sometimes, the only way to move forward was to demand justice for the past.  He shifted slightly, still not sure Clarke had made the right decision when she announced he would be attending as her guard.

“Not gonna happen,” he’d told her flatly.  He didn’t bring up that after everything they’d gone through together, he felt he warranted a slightly higher rank in her entourage than  _bodyguard_.

“I need you there,” she threw back.  “They’re sending Kane as the other representative.  I can’t do this without you at my side.  I won’t,” she said, and for a second he saw a flash of the girl who said  _I can’t lose you too_  and his resolve weakened.

But now he was here, listening to everyone argue and bicker and demand payment for past crimes, and all he wanted to do was leave and go find everyone else.  Raven and Wick had come with the retinue attending to Clarke and Kane, ostensibly to provide technological support to the Grounder Alliance as a show of good faith but also because Clarke seemed to have decided she was done leaving the people she cared about behind.  Her mother was in Polis somewhere too, swapping medical knowledge with Lexa’s top healers.  Hell, even Murphy came, having shown up with a fucking eyepatch and a brand-new Grounder girlfriend he couldn’t stop flaunting.  (When asked about Jaha, Murphy just shrugged and said “Shark.”  No one was really sure if he was kidding or not.)  He wanted to go find Monty and Miller and try some of the Grounder’s moonshine and play cards.  He was tired of fighting and wanted to enjoy the peace, not watch as Clarke tried to build it with her bare hands.

But Clarke wanted him by her side so here he was, standing over her shoulder with a rifle slung across his back.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Lexa.  “We want Lincoln.  Unharmed,” she demanded.

Lexa shook her head.  “He committed a crime and must face our punishment first,” she said, and maybe Bellamy had been standing too long and was a little light headed, but he felt like Lexa and Clarke had been passing looks back and forth all day.  Something had happened when he was in the mountain, that he was sure–but what, he couldn’t decide.

“He’s one of us now.  He made his choice and you need to honor that,” Clarke countered.  “Lincoln, unharmed.”

“Fine,” Lexa bit out after a long pause.  She gestured to one of her guards standing near the door.  “Lincoln will be returned to Octavia of the Sky People, unharmed.”  

Clarke looked over her shoulder and caught Bellamy’s eye and he nodded reassuringly.  She’d made him go over their demands ad nauseum on the long walk to Polis.   _Lincoln.  Land.  Food.  A system for handling conflict and a justice system all sides could agree on to punish troublemakers intent on destroying the truce. Complete destruction of any weapons other than guns the Mountain Men possessed. Justice for those the Sky People lost in Mount Weather._

The list was long and quite frankly, it seemed like it would be impossible to balance three competing interests.  Things had almost derailed entirely that morning when Wallace demanded complete immunity for Mount Weather’s past crimes, against the Grounders and the Sky People alike.  In the end, he agreed to turn over four members of Project Cerberus to the still-to-be-created justice system, but not before three representatives of Grounder clans (River, Ice, and…were they the Lake People?  Octavia had grilled him on it while they walked, but he still couldn’t remember all the varying clans’ sigils yet) threatened to leave the Alliance entirely.

The next hour was consumed by a four-way argument over access to some river (Bellamy couldn’t see the map, which made their constant pointing and yelling all the more infuriating) and eventually Lexa called an end to the proceedings for the day.  “We will start with the issue of the river tomorrow.  Clarke,” Lexa called over the rustle of nearly two dozen people standing and leaving.  “There’s–there’s something of interest here in Polis I would like to show you,” she said and there it was again–the look.  A frisson passed between them but it was gone the second Clarke shook her head.

“I have to discuss tomorrow with my people first.  If there’s time tonight I will come find you,” Clarke said and turned on her heel, joining the scrum at the door.  Bellamy and Clarke said goodbye to Kane and made their way down the wide, paved streets of Polis.

“I’m still not used to this,” he said, nodding to the mostly-intact buildings on either side of them.

“Lexa said it used to be much bigger, but this area escaped the worst of the bombs.  That’s why it looks so…”

“Whole?” Bellamy supplied.  He was so used to a world made up of bits and pieces–even the Ark was cobbled together from twelve different parts.  Seeing buildings that looked like they had been made with the same materials with one purpose in mind was disconcerting.  

He dropped an arm over Clarke’s shoulder and squeezed comfortingly as she leaned into him.  Ever since they returned from Mount Weather she had seemed to need his presence more often.  The stern, self-controlled girl from the dropship was gone and in her place was a woman with so much pain in her eyes it caused him physical pain.  Bellamy still wasn’t sure how to explain his friendship with Clarke, because every word he tried ( _ally, partner, friend_ ) seemed wholly inadequate.  She ducked into the small barracks given over to their section of the Sky People retinue and a round of cheers greeted them.

Raven waved happily from the floor, Monty and Wick on either side of her with an entire spaceship’s worth of machine parts scattered around them.  “Look what Miller found!” Monty said proudly.  “They’ve been storing these for years, using them as scrap metal, but I think we can piece together an engine from this.”

Raven slapped a part from his hand.  “Not if you connect that to my alternator and blow this whole thing to hell,” she said affectionately.  “By the way, Octavia went tearing out of here to get Lincoln a few hours ago.  She looked really happy.”

A shadow of a smile crossed Clarke’s face and then she turned to Bellamy.  “Mind going over the plan for tomorrow?” she asked him.  

“Come on, stay,” Monty pleaded.  “Have some fun with us, Clarke.  You guys spend all day locked up in that room and then all night locked in yours, planning for another day locked in that room.”

“We’re almost done,” Clarke promised.  “A few more days, okay?”  She turned on her heel and headed into the room she’d claimed their first day in Polis.  Bellamy knew she didn’t feel she could relax until everything was settled so he followed her again, sitting with his back against the wall while she paced, going over any mistakes she might have made and rehearsing her positions for tomorrow.

She twisted her hands together and Bellamy stood.  “What if they–”

“Clarke, stop,” he said gently and took her hands in his.  “You’ve been over all of this.  You’ve done so much already.”

Clarke closed her eyes like she was in physical pain.  “It could all fall apart though.  It already did.  And I–”

“And you saved us.”  His fingers curled around hers, small and callused under his touch.

“Bellamy,” she breathed but a knock on the door cut off her next words as they sprang apart.

Wick opened her door hesitantly at first, then more quickly once he saw them standing in the center of the floor.  “Clarke, there’s…there’s someone here for you.  Lexa wants to see you.”

Bellamy reached for his gun but  Wick shook his head.  “Just her, apparently,” Wick said.

“Like hell I’m letting her go alone,” Bellamy growled.

Clarke rested her hand on his forearm.  “It’s fine–Lexa and I we…we have…this is personal.  It’s okay.  I’ll be safe.”

Reluctantly, Bellamy nodded and watched her go.  Despite his earlier desire to do no more than play cards by candlelight with the people out in the front room he felt suddenly stifled.

“Going for a walk,” he barked and left the barracks without another word.

Night had fallen while he and Clarke were talking and the winter wind bit through his jacket.  He wandered the streets aimlessly, marveling at the bustle of a city even after sundown.  Torches lit the corners while candles sent warm yellow light out of windows where families were gathered.

“Bellamy,” a throaty, familiar voice called from behind him.

He spun while she stepped out of the shadows and the nearby torches threw her face into sharp relief.  She looked healthier than she had in the mountain–her skin no longer had the pallor of someone deprived of sun and drained of blood and her bruises and cuts were healed.  Her rich olive skin and warm brown hair stood out even in the dim light of the evening.  A smile danced on the edge of her lips.  “Echo,” she said, like telling him her name was a private joke.

“How did you know my name?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

Again, that almost-smile.  “Everyone knows your name.  Bellamy of the Sky People, their Commander’s second.”

“I’m not her second,” he replied automatically.

Echo rolled her eyes and then grew serious.  “I’m sorry we left you.”  Bellamy held her gaze for several heartbeats and nodded.  She saved him and he saved her.  Her debt was paid when the Mountain Men offered the deal and Bellamy had much bigger betrayals to handle now.  “Come,” she said with a twitch of her head and Bellamy found himself following her down a dark side street and up a ladder.  She offered him a hand and helped him over the ledge onto the roof and then turned to face the city.

Polis stretched before them, illuminated by countless small cooking fires and torches.  The ocean was to their back, roaring softly in the distance.  “It’s better up here,” Echo explained.

“How long were you in there?” he asked, because he had to know.

She shrugged, a carelessly sensual movement.  “It was getting colder at night when they took me.”

Bellamy nodded.  Early fall, probably.  That meant she’d been stuck in that cage for months.  Her courage and tenacity sent a wave of awe through him as he remembered the terror of his brief stay.  It made sense that she would seek out a place like this–somewhere open and high.  Somewhere she could see the sky.  They stood in silence next to one another, the wind tugging at their hair, until she turned and propped her hip against the ledge.  “Your commander.”

“Clarke.”

The ghost of a smile again played with her lips.  “Your Clarke,” she said pointedly.  “Is she?”

“Is she what?”

“Is she yours?”  Echo raised her eyebrows, her light brown eyes unreadable in the moonlight.

 _Is she yours?_  For a moment, Bellamy didn’t know how to answer.  She wasn’t, of course.  Not in the way Echo was implying, anyway.  But there were moments where it seemed like they were something _more_ , enough to give him pause.  “No,” he said finally.  “She belongs to no one.”

“And what about you?  Do you belong to someone?”

Bellamy looked back out over the city and shook his head.  Echo sat down with her back against the ledge, out of the wind, and pulled out a bottle.  Bellamy sat down next to her and took it wordlessly.  Her arm pressed against his and her hip fit neatly into his side as they passed the bottle back and forth, looking up at the stars.  He still wasn’t quite used to seeing them from the ground–they seemed so much farther away than they had on the Ark, and there were so many more of them than he realized.

The moon had moved by the time Echo turned to look him in the eye and he slid his fingers into her hair.  The ledge protected them from the worst of the wind as their hands roamed each other’s bodies under their clothes, their mouths searching out any bare skin in a desperate quest for connection.  And the stars seemed to dim a little when he finally pushed inside of her, her body warm and pliant beneath his fingers, her breath hot on his neck.  Her peak came suddenly and drew him into the abyss with her as they shook and trembled together.

Echo straightened her clothes and stood.  “Goodnight, Bellamy of the Sky People,” she whispered and kissed softly him before climbing back onto the ladder.  

He stood and smiled back.  “May we meet again,” he mumbled and she gave him that secretive smile of hers.

“May we meet again,” she replied and started down towards the street.

Bellamy stayed on the roof for awhile longer, watching the city spread below him.  Then he started down the ladder, back to the barracks.

Back to the peace talks.

Back to Clarke.

**Author's Note:**

> I pretty much wrote this because YAY ECHO IS STILL ALIVE but it spun out of control into a 2,400 word monster. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.
> 
> Also, bleedtoloveher wanted Jaha to get eaten by a shark. So that’s in here too.


End file.
